


Clipped Wings

by mourn3d



Category: Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games), Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Tattoos, good ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 01:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30132012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mourn3d/pseuds/mourn3d
Summary: In a state of mourning the leaving of his lover, Michael copes with a drunken idea of a back tattoo. Memories of their relationship flood his mind and lead him to the Vanilla Unicorn where he finds Trevor and where they quickly learn there is more to both of them than meets the eye.
Relationships: Amanda De Santa/Michael De Santa, Michael De Santa/Trevor Philips
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Clipped Wings

**Author's Note:**

> This was a written for The Lost Boys Vol. 2 :D

It was a hellish week for Trevor. He got blood on his hands more than once for the industry and then for stupid assholes that Wade had tried to let come into his home. He hadn’t been able to come home in a while. Almost two weeks. He really wanted to see his fiance. He needed to press his lips against his shoulder and wanted to just hug him close to himself and forget about the pain he had been through back at Sandy Shores without him. 

When he got home his heart delved into a warm feeling as soon as he laid eyes on the beautiful man that was splayed out on the couch, asleep and hugging a small comforter pillow close to his chest. Trevor dropped his things, put his keys on the table and just went straight to him, kissing his forehead and sliding into where he moved the pillow. Michael instantly had moved him close to himself, the two sharing a soft kiss for the first time in two weeks. Trevor knew that his place was forever going to be at Michael’s side. He loved the gentle reminder of that with just the simplest and sweetest welcome home he had ever gotten. 

It didn’t matter what Michael was doing when he was coming home. All that mattered was that he was there and was okay. It was the perfect thing for Trevor, seeing him relaxed in his place and peaceful. It filled his heart with passion to the brim. He wanted to show him how happy he was making him. He wanted him to know how much Trevor was willing to devote himself to him. 

They had a perfect weekend together. They didn’t try to spoil anything, just spent the few days laying together on the couch, Trevor of course cooking them breakfast and telling Michael it was completely fine for him to be able to pick out the movies that he specifically wanted. Trevor wanted him to be happy while they were together. 

Michael sure got to be happy today. 

Hips quivered, his thighs parted and head bent down almost in shame as he was set up in the middle of the bed. His dark locks were covering his eyes as he trained them on the covers of the bed. Ignoring the other male in the room who was eyeing him and the work he had done to get him in this position. 

Michael heard the steadiness of his heartbeat in his ears. His breathing was heavy, just sitting up on his knees and presenting himself to Trevor, who’s eyes were cloudy with a terrifyingly seductive look. He had a twisted smirk on his face, his left hand toying with his member as their eyes locked for a few moments before Michael shifted his gaze down to the carpet. 

His swimming thoughts led him to not even register the words coming from his partner. Not noticing him advancing towards him, though in his current position he had no chance in hell to get away from him. 

His mind remained to stay trained off of Trevor, his ocean blue eyes swimming with all sorts of emotions that fizzed inside of his brain and heart in that moment in time. Just what was that beautiful man going to do to him? It was driving him completely mad sitting there without a chance to be able to defend himself or even touch Trevor. 

“Are you listening to me?” Trevor snapped at him, fingers suddenly twisting around Michael’s throat and forcing him to look up and meet the eyes of the hungry man before him. Those wide hazel eyes burning with passion and ferocity that Michael could barely contain in his own. 

The fingers that were wrapped around his throat made him slump forwards, trying to gain balance although he knew very well that Trevor was keeping him still with one arm easily. Michael grunted and tried pulling himself off and away from Trevor, but it was truly no use against the strong arm that was holding him still by his throat. He grit his teeth and sneered back at Trevor as he was held, giving up on trying to struggle his way out of his grasp. 

“Answer me, Sugar.” Trevor muttered to him lowly, those deep and dark whiskey colored eyes swam deep into Michael’s, sucking them up for all they had and drowning Michael. His hand moved to let him breath, his thumb and index finger instead placing just above his chin and squeezing roughly, jerking his face towards him and making Michael almost fall forwards. Embarrassment began to seep into Michael’s stomach, his eyelashes fluttering slightly as he tried to come up with the words to answer the man in front of him. 

“Y-Yes- Yes- Mm...listening.” Michael mumbled, his eyes widening instantly to try and get Trevor to believe him. Trevor let go of him and pushed him back, he grunted loudly at the feeling and laid back against the mattress on his back. “Fuck, Trevor.” he muttered, relaxing on his arms that were bound to his back. 

“That’s good, baby. Just perfect for me, hmm?” Trevor hummed to him, the bastard himself crawled over and straddled Michael’s hips, laying his hands against the side of his head as he supported his own weight effortlessly and got straight into Michael’s face. 

Oh yes, did Michael have fun that night. 

But now?

The morning sun hit the doors to the balcony beautifully, casting an arrangement of bright colors across the room until it woke Michael. He wished that some days were just like this. Where he could wake up next to the man of his dreams and see the sunlight pool in through the bedroom. He looked down at the Canadian in his bed and for once in his life felt full and utterly complete as he stared at him. 

Trevor’s hair was scattered around his head, almost like a halo as he laid there, his lips were plush and poked out into a small scowl as he slept. The true definition of perfection. He leaned down and placed his lips against Trevor’s. His heart fluttered with all sorts of emotions as he held his lover and kissed him. Trevor’s eyes opened. 

It was there where reality began to take a shift. Where the panic sat in whenever he met those two starving amber eyes that he sought out for every night. He felt the hands move up and drift against his back, but he felt sharp pain as soon as the finger tips made contact. Then he saw….what the fuck was that? 

Trevor had a pair of black wings below him, the feathers bunched up and fluffy from underneath the comforter, but obviously it wasn’t him, he knew for a fact that Trevor didn’t have wings. And what was that pain on his back. He reached out to brush his hand across the feathers, but retracted his hand whenever he heard Trevor shout at him. He couldn’t exactly make out what he said, too afraid of the sight before him. 

  
Michael pulled away from him in shock. The man pulled away and made a run for the door but as soon as he tried opening it he appeared right back in bed, now those bright colors were gone, and the side of the bed that contained Trevor was cold. His back ached with pain. Memories of reality hitting him as soon as he saw the time. Knowing now that he was fully awake..and whatever...whoever that was in his dream was gone. 

He remembered the events that unfolded yesterday. How he had fought, how he had screamed, and how he had cried and tried to fight for his best friend to stay but nothing worked. Trevor packed up and left him without a glance over his shoulder. It was all his fault. 

He didn’t want to leave Amanda. He didn’t want to lose his children and that was a sickness that he couldn’t get over. A part inside of his mind just told him that he didn’t want to give up on the marriage that he was able to hold on to for ten years. He didn’t know what he would have going through his mind whenever he had to sign the papers to give his wife away. He just...didn’t want to let go. 

Now he was alone, without Amanda, without his children and without Trevor, the one that he wanted and who wanted him to leave everything. He was sitting on his bed with the window open and a breeze pressing against his face and his bare chest. He drug his knees up to his chin and sat there silently, his back throbbing with the pain of the needle that was previously pressed into it for hours upon hours. 

It was funny to him. He was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to be six feet deep down in the cold earth of North Yankton about to celebrate his tenth deathday. He knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be an angel. Instead a demon, rotting in hell for years to come just waiting for Trevor to get himself offed and to meet him to punish and torture him for eternity for leaving him there in North Yankton after he died. And maybe if he died right now it would be the same, waiting for Trevor to join him and torture him for all of the pain. He promised he would make it work. And Trevor was left in the dust, again. 

That’s why Michael was in pain right now. Remembering that tattoo on his ex-partners shoulder. The cross, as if Michael was any sort of saint in his past life when they were best friends. A Saint. It was a funny word on his tongue, imagining himself to be a church-goer, where he would take part in the body and blood of Christ every Sunday evening, give a few Hail Marys a day and maybe spend eternity with God after talking with the Pope like he was his therapist. Sure, he was like that in his youth, but he had changed since then, since he had met Trevor. Perhaps he would have gone with the lifestyle if he was a completely different person, but now he was in a hole that he could never escape from. 

Maybe life was hell, but he made the most out of it when he wasn’t trying to drink himself out of his misery or trying to sleep, he tried to make the best of it but it never seemed to work. He had no reason to get his tattoo, but...he got it, at least. 

It was a pair of wings. In a regular dark blue tattoo ink. It stretched down his back and was larger length-wise than three of his own hands. It stretched down until the bottom of his back and was a perfect example of the angel that Michael could have had if he didn’t turn out the way he did. 

Though in a way, he needed to. At least to Trevor, the one who put his life on Michael more than once. Who saved his sorry ass when the government wanted him dead. Trevor was one of the few people that stood at his side, though there was fighting (a lot of it) he still remained at Michael’s side, and that affection that the two kept hidden behind closed doors never ceased until Michael finally twisted the knife into Trevor’s stomach. That’s why Michael was left alone for days and decided to get himself drunk and get one expensive tattoo. How romantic.

He sighed, standing up from his spot on the bed, leaning in and closing the doors of the small balcony, sliding his hand over the lock and locking them with ease, before taking a left and heading into the closet. His eyes fell over a box of heels that sat on the bottom shelf of the closet. At least she wasn’t gone completely. Wait until she saw the tattoo. He picked out a shirt, a simple one. A cream colored T-shirt, not his usual style for a movie producer, but he would go with it. He didn’t need a lot of pressure on his healing back. He slid on the shirt and changed into dark colored blue jeans, then he grabbed his things and headed out of the house. Feeling the soft air of the night relaxed his aching body. He really, really needed to get out and get a drink. 

He carefully got into the Tailgator, careful to keep his back off of the firm leather of the seat. He put on his seatbelt and started the car, creeping out of the driveway and heading down the road towards any bar that he could get to in with his mind in autopilot. 

He was silent, driving and following any normal traffic laws. Trevor would just not get out of his mind. Anything he did, anything he looked at, he imagined him right there beside him reacting. He imagined him there and just watching. Taking a turn, he hummed along to the tune on the radio quietly as he drove. His eyes wandered to the passing streetlights of Los Santos, imagining the light in the eyes of Trevor if he just listened to him, if he just had given him a chance to make their relationship something, instead, he found out what Michael had been hiding from him for months. 

He still was talking to Amanda, just simple how are you’s, and so one, then Michael got something he hadn’t gotten from a long time from Amanda. He got an apology. An actual apology with every drip of emotion he had always wanted. There were feelings in this. It hit Michael in a way he never thought anything could hit him. He replied to her message laying in the bed next to Trevor. If only he had known what that could have done to him. What his actions did to Trevor...if only he had known. 

He remembered the promise that he made to Trevor, remembered when Trevor asked him to leave the woman who still preyed over the two of them from the pictures of the family that remained still in the house. The back of his head gingerly pressed against the headrest of the seat and he relaxed, trying to soothe the aching from the tattoo on his back and the emotions that were rising through his heart. He really needed to get a few drinks in him. He hummed quietly along with Anthony Kiedis’ voice, trying to focus on the road ahead of him and the cars that rushed past him. 

He pulled over to one of the all too familiar clubs. He parked the car and got out, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket and locking the car with the key fob inside of his pocket. Not making any reaction when the car alerted him that it was now locked with a honk. 

He headed into the club, pushing past a small group of men who were eyeballing the women from their seats and ordered him an overly expensive scotch. The woman that was bartending gave him a cheeky smile as he tipped her and took his drink, then headed to take a place at the lower level of the club, his eyes wandered to the woman on the middle of the stage, but any thoughts that entered his mind was about anything but her. They were about the man that was currently inspecting some kind of creep that was clearly breaking the rules of the club. He ordered one of the guards to leave and sighed as he pushed past the curtains and instantly recognized the sulking man that sat nursing his drink. 

Trevor scoffed at the sight, considering going back to his office, but then deciding that he could be the bigger man in this situation. He walked down towards the table and clapped Michael on the back, waking him up from his daze and splashing the drink against the t-shirt so there was now a huge wet spot. 

“You fucking asshole!” Michael said in exasperation after a wince that jerked his entire body. His back arched in pain at the slap and he slammed the glass down on the table after glancing down at his now stained t-shirt. “What the hell do you want, T?”

Trevor noticed the wince, but didn’t dare bring it up just yet at the temper that was thrown at him. He scowled and took a seat across the table from Michael, who’s crystal blue eyes were still glued on his with anger. 

“I want to know what you’re doing here. If you hadn’t noticed, this is my workspace. And I can kick you out if you dare get even a touch too snippy with me. So watch your fucking tongue, Townley. I can send you straight back home like that.” He snapped to demonstrate the quickness that he could get one of the bodyguards to kick him out. Michael surveyed him, but didn’t say a word, Trevor snarled at him. 

“You know what? Fuck you Michael. I don’t even know why I let you stay in the first place!” he stood up and slammed a fist down on the table, waving a hand for the attention of one of the guards who rushed over to him. “Take this stupid prick out of my club.”

Michael glared at the guard who went to grab his shoulder and pull him up, and looked at Trevor, he jerked himself away from the guard and made eye contact with Trevor who leaned back and crossed his arms. 

“Alright, fine, you fuck. You want to talk? Let’s talk!” Michael said and pulled away from the guard again. His eyes fought desperately with the threatening seas that Trevor’s held. The other man sighed and snapped at the guard to get back to work, and instead brought Michael back to his office. An angry scowl on his lips as he led him through the small rooms towards the office. Michael kept his eyes down angrily at the stain on his stomach. 

“Talk.” Trevor demanded when they got into the room, and Michael gulped a little. “What the hell is going on with you, M?” he asked. 

“I don’t know what brought me here, Trevor. I-I don’t know how the hell I ended up...well...fucking...here. I don’t-” Michael began to stumble over his words the moment he realized that he had to sit in a room alone with Trevor. It hadn’t been terribly long...barely a day since Trevor left him, but it was still hard talking to him now. Hard to be able to keep his story straight since he knew that Trevor would barely trust him either way. 

“What are you trying to say, Michael? Speak up.” He slapped a hand against his back as he moved past him to pour them both drinks from the bottle of Macbeth that was sitting on a tray on his desk. He poured a bit into the glass and turned back to Michael, pausing at the pained expression that had spread across his face. He stopped and slowly sat the drinks back down on the desk and approached Michael as if he was a timid deer.

“I-...uhm. I don’t-” Michael fought for something to say, the pain still was coming in shocks from his back. He heaved a little to breath and went to sit down slowly in the small chair that was in front of the desk. 

“What is up with you now?” Trevor asked, his tone a little sharper than he really intended it to be, he moved to smooth a hand against Michael’s shoulder, seeing him wince he pulled back again. Out of anything in this world Trevor was mainly scared to hurt Michael. Especially when he got quiet and stuttery like this. “Michael...talk to me.”

“I got a tattoo.” Michael muttered, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap, his eyes were trained down on the stained carpet of the office, afraid to make eye contact with the one he was sure was judging the holy hell out of him at this moment. 

“A tattoo?” Trevor questioned, moving towards him slowly and tilting his head almost like a confused dog. 

“Yeah.” Michael muttered, slowly standing up from his place and making a move to take off his shirt. Trevor took a step towards him on instinct, his hands closing over the hem of the shirt to help him since he was still wincing from the smack from earlier. 

With teamwork, they both raised the shirt over Michael’s head and tossed it to the small couch. Trevor moved to look at the expanse of Michael’s back and gingerly smoothed a hand down slowly, feeling the slight warmth that came from the healing skin and frowning when Michael flinched away from him. He softly moved closer to him, caressing his lower back softly where the bottom row of feathers were before a lightbulb went off in his mind. 

“A lot of the girls here get tattoos nightly...so I try to keep any of their pain down to a minimum. I’m sure somewhere here I have some soothing cream for that.” he moved away. Any touch that Michael’s body had been attempting to get used to was now gone, leaving Michael slightly shocked in his absence until the other man perked up with a small round tin with a label that read Tattoo Care & Maintenance Cream. In moments like these, Michael would usually tease him for having something so oddly specific for what he needed, but instead he nodded and shuffled towards him, but Trevor stuck his hand out and pointed to the couch. The two migrated to spots on the couch, Trevor on his knees behind Michael who was gazing at the wall in a heart warmed daze. 

Trevor dipped two fingers into the cream and drugged the side against it, getting a good amount on his fingers and sat the tin down on the couch, then spread the cream between both of his hands and began to gently rub and make sure the cream spread across every inch of his skin. When he was finished Michael was damn-near asleep in his sitting position. It made Trevor just simply sigh, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to get this fucker to go home with the look in his eyes. So he decided to help him slide onto his chest, and carefully pressed a pillow below the arms that were attempting to support his head. 

Michael fell asleep easily and left Trevor alone to his thoughts yet again. Exactly where he was before Michael entered the club just an hour earlier. He backed away and decided that he couldn’t handle his presence for much longer. He really needed to get rid of this tension building in his shoulders. 

He thoughtlessly picked at the edge of his nail with his teeth and backed out of the room, closing it and turning away. He headed out the back door of the club and pushed past the small space for people to enter through the fence and eyed his truck. Knowing exactly what he needed was stashed away under the phone book inside of her glovebox. Release.. It was what he needed now. And he was about to receive it in the form of a needle. It might not be as satisfying as cool cream against your back but it certainly got the job done. 

With a small sigh, his feet carried him to his destination and he flipped down the glovebox, reaching under the book with his left hand until he found the hard plastic covering of the syringe. 

Perhaps Michael wasn’t the only demon after all. 


End file.
